


Cycle

by QueenKordeilia



Category: Waaris (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2021-01-30 19:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenKordeilia/pseuds/QueenKordeilia
Summary: I use the word 'turf' here to denote 'ilaaka'. I'm not sure if it's the correct translation in terms of the context it was used in in the show, but 'area' sounded too formal.
Relationships: Preet/Orginal Male Character, RajPreet





	1. Chapter 1

"So what do you want me to do? When you don't have a single penny to your name, why do you expect me to help you get your daughter married off?"

"But, Shah Ji, if you can't help me then who can?"

Preet shook her head in disgust as she witnessed her uncle's typical way of carrying out his duties—by berating people for asking help in the first place.

'Who made this idiot Shah?' she asked herself before scowling when she realised it was her own doing.

As Chacha continued to belittle the clansman standing in front of him, Preet resumed her way down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. She ignored the helpless look that the clansman threw her; when he hadn't spoken up in her favour during her hearing with the Panchayat, why was she obliged to speak up for him? The Pawaniyas had dug their own graves when they'd deemed her unfit to be Shah due to her sex and, in turn, she'd given them what they deserved by abdicating her seat to the worst Shah possible. Now the people had to deal with the aftermath of their own choices and she was not sorry for that.

It had been little over a year since the Panchayat had sentenced her to banishment from Gaguwal in exchange for her mother's pardon. Of course, she had staunchly refused and, owing to a private deal she had made with him beforehand, Chacha had got the Panchayat to overturn their decision on the condition that she go into exile for a year. She had done as she was told, spending the year with Gunjan Didi and Aman Jiju, much to the chagrin of the latter's parents.

Before she even knew it, the year had flown by and she was warmly welcomed back into her house by her family. Chacha had also been pleased by her return but for a very different reason to that of the others who were just happy to have her back albeit in a different avatar to the one she'd donned for the first eighteen years of her life.

Chachi smiled at her as she entered the kitchen.

"Arrey, Preet, is there something you need?" she asked, making herself a cup of tea.

"No, Chachi, I just wanted to see what everyone was up to," Preet answered as she leant against the counter right next to her. "Why do you do this work? There are still servants here, aren't there?"

"They never make tea the way I like it," Chachi replied, stirring the contents of the mug in front of her.

"Fair enough," Preet commented just as the clansman started crying for help. Her aunt gave her an awkward smile which looked more like a grimace as Chacha shouted for security to remove his unwanted visitor.

Chachi coughed, probably in an attempt to distract Preet when her eyes suddenly lit up. The latter watched as the former took a sip from her no doubt piping hot cup of tea before saying, "We had a somewhat unexpected visitor a few weeks back."

"Who?" the nineteen-year-old asked curiously, playing with the end of her dupatta.

"That boy..." Chachi started, waving a finger about as she scrunched her face up. "What's his name... umm, Rohan?"

"Rohan Bajwa?" Preet implored, dropping her dupatta. She had not expected that. "The drunk?"

Chachi frantically shook her head. "He's not even drunk anymore but not him... The other one... your—"

At her aunt's pitiful look, Preet realised who she was trying to place. "My husband?" Chachi nodded meekly as if she had done something wrong and Preet laughed. "Arrey, Chachi, it's okay. You can call Raj my husband; I've been wearing vermilion in his name ever since our wedding day." She jerked a thumb towards her to her parting to illustrate the fact.

After taking another long swig of her drink, Chachi put her mug down before placing a hand on her niece's shoulder.

"I thought that since he left you in such a state that you wouldn't forgive him," she said softly.

"I haven't," Preet replied, recalling Raj's betrayal as she did every single day. "But the pheras have happened, haven't they? Until I get a divorce from him, I'm still his wife."

"You have a point," Chachi agreed, patting her on the shoulder. The two women exchanged small smiles before the older of the two left the room.

So, Raj was seeking her out? Although Chachi hadn't told her why Raj had paid them a visit, his motive was pretty clear to her. Upon Preet's return, Chacha had proudly updated her on Harjeet Bajwa's plight at finding out that he had married the same woman responsible for his eldest son's death. Preet was pretty sure that Rohan's (former?) alcoholism was also Mohini's doing. At long last, the moment she had been waiting for was finally here. Raj no longer regarded her as Raman's murderer and was surely going to seek her forgiveness.

She smiled.

Now the true game was going to begin.

* * *

Preet was sat in her room, looking over some of Chacha's property papers—at his request—when there was a knock on the balcony door. A tinge of excitement surged through her at the thought of the person she was sure was on the other side but she quickly controlled herself. She couldn't exactly greet him with an abnormal grin and risk giving her game away.

'Calm yourself,' she mentally chanted as she opened the draw under her desk and safely stowed the property papers away. The last thing the village needed was a property/business dispute between the Pawaniyas and the Bajwas.

Ensuring that the door to her room was securely locked, Preet tentatively hobbled over to the balcony door and unlocked it. She took a deep breath before opening the door, almost beaming in victory when she came face to face with her target—her husband—Raj Bajwa.

Taking a few steps back, she unintentionally slipped on the rug behind her and closed her eyes as she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable thud. Instead, she found herself encased by a pair of strong familiar arms. The last time she was in these arms, she'd been blissfully ignorant of their owner's true colours. Feeling that it was the right time, Preet opened her eyes and gazed into Raj's hazel brown eyes, imitating those sexy eyelocks she'd seen on TV at Gunjan Didi's.

'Stop it right now, Preet,' before this plan backfires on you, she chided herself. Preet hastily composed herself and pushed Raj away, steadying herself into an upright position.

"You have the audacity to come here after what you did to me?" she questioned angrily, not having to act a single bit for this part.

Raj gave her a helpless look before saying, "Preet, hear me out just once. I've come here to ask for your forgiveness."

"Forgiveness?!" she spat before turning away from him and making a noise of disgust.

"I felt terrible when I discovered the truth," he stated, walking around her to face her. She crossed her arms but remained where she was, apparently giving him the go ahead to continue speaking. "I wanted your forgiveness straight away but I knew that you weren't in the village so I focused on getting rid of that Mohini and her brood. After I proved her guilty in front of Papa Ji, he killed Nihaal for revenge—you know, a son for a son—and then kicked M—"

"Enough!" Preet ordered, putting her hand up. As interested as she was in the story of Mohini's downfall, her plan had to take priority. "I have no interest in hearing about your nonsensical family drama, you idiot!"

Raj's eyebrows almost shot all the way up into his hairline as he held his hands up in surrender. "I just wanted t—"

"Chacha!" she bellowed, quickly unlocking her room door and opening it.

"Preet, what—"

She ignored his pleas and continued to call, "Chacha! Veer Ji!"

Keeping an eye on Raj as she heard frantic footsteps running up the stairs, she was pleasantly surprised to see that her husband was still in the room.

"What happened?" Chacha asked, running into her room with a few men in tow.

Preet revelled in the shocked look on his face as he stopped short when he spotted Raj who finally started running towards the balcony. "Catch him!"

As the men chased Raj out onto the balcony and presumably down the tree right outside, Preet responded to Chacha's questioning look with a smirk. He raised his eyebrow, a smirk of his own appearing on his face as he chuckled.

"Did you call him here to get him beaten up?" he queried, leaning against the doorframe. "Good plan, for a girl."

Preet laughed, taking the 'girl' comment with a pinch of salt; she knew that she, along with her mother, was one of the only women who Chacha respected (maybe even admired) for being in possession of a sharp mind and knowing how to use it.

"Arrey, Chacha," she began, spinning around her bedpost before slowly walking towards the balcony. "The real plan—the real game—has only just begun. You just wait and see."

Raj Bajwa wouldn't know what hit him.


	2. Chapter 2

Preet crossed her arms and leant against the fragile entryway of the Friend's Corner, spying the back of her target's head. "I knew I'd find you here."

Raj turned away from the wall he was facing to look at her, revealing the extent of his injuries caused by the Pawaniya men: an array of bruises on his face, a black eye, and a split lip, to name a few. And that was just what the eye could see. There was no doubt that there were other injuries hidden by his full sleeved top, rather an interesting fashion choice for the summer.

"What happened, Raj Babu? You've got nothing to say?"

A short silence followed, and then, ever so quietly: "I've been coming here every single day since I found out you were innocent."

"Good for you," she commented, trying to mask her surprise. She'd thought he'd forgotten all about her until the visit Chachi had told her about. "At least this place didn't go to waste in my absence. I looked after it way too well and long for that."

Suddenly, he crawled over to her feet, folding his hands together. He looked so pathetic that he reminded her of the numerous clansmen she'd seen begging her uncle for help. "Won't you forgive me now, Preet? You had me beaten up good last night. Have me beaten again if you want, as many times as it takes. I promise I won't fight back. I just want us to be friends again."

She curled her lip in contempt. Begging didn't work for the clansmen; it wouldn't work for Raj either. "You think I'll forgive you so easily? How can you possibly expect that? You humiliated me in front of the entire village! You threw the nuptial chain you tied around my neck into the holy fire! You disrespected our marriage! Worst of all, you put my mother at the mercy of my clan and the Panchayat!"

"I know, and I'm sorry." He looked up at her with teary eyes. "But you have to understand that I thought you were Raman Veer Ji's murderer."

"So what? If you thought that, you should've just killed me. A life for a life! Why marry me and then throw me away?" He didn't answer. "You've destroyed my image in front of the whole village. How can I forgive you after that? I _do_ have some dignity left. I'm not about to give it up again for you."

"What if I help you become Shah again?" he asked, desperately searching her eyes. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

It wasn't. She had no interest in governing people who deemed her unworthy just because of her sex. Let Chacha destroy their lives for all she cared.

Unbeknownst to him, there was nothing Raj Bajwa could do to gain her forgiveness. She'd decided that one sad morning at Gunjan Didi's place, well before her year of exile was up, when she'd realised that had she truly been a man, Raj would've humiliated Gunjan Didi in her stead. Would she ever have been able to forgive him then?

No.

So how could she now? How could she even think about forgiving someone who was so disrespectful towards women that he saw them as objects he could ruin to get back at their male owners (relatives)? How was he any different from her uncle who'd tricked his aunt into leaving her fiance at the mandap nineteen years ago, to destroy the Bajwas' honour?

He wasn't. He needed to be taught a lesson.

"You'll have to do something else for me," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. He was still eagerly grovelling on the floor like she once had. The sight was satisfying, but not nearly enough.

"Anything."

"Divorce me."

He blinked in shock. "W—what?"

"Divorce me. Aman Jijaji's lawyer will be sending me the papers within the week. All you have to do is sign."

"But why? Won't you forgive me once you become Shah again?"

She refrained from rolling her eyes. "You want us to be friends again, don't you?" He nodded. "Well, friends don't trick each other into marriage! I can't be your friend while still filling my parting in your name for a dhokha."

He looked down in apparent shame. When he didn't say anything further, she took his silence to mean yes.

"I'll bring the papers 'round here next week," she said, checking the time on her phone. "Be ready."

She left without another word. She'd wasted enough time with him already.


	3. Chapter 3

One morning, after breakfast, Preet whiled the hours away listening to some tunes on her mobile phone. While living with the Pahujas, there had been TV (though she'd had to fight Mrs Pahuja for screentime) and other exciting aspects of city life but here, in Gaguwal, there simply wasn't much to do. The village life had never bored her before, but then she'd always been Shah; as a mere niece of the Shah, she knew she'd be out of her mind by the next week.

The current song playing in her ears was about a romantic betrayal. Ignoring the pronouns, or rather swapping them, female for male, she could almost pretend that the lyrics were referring to Raj. It was truly laughable how most songs were about women betraying men when in real life, at least in Gaguwal, it was almost always men dumping, oppressing and cheating on women. The men around her were prime examples: Chacha, Harjeet Bajwa and Raj had all betrayed their respective wives, the first having betrayed his mistress too. Of course, all but one of the good men from these families—her father, her grandfather, Raj's grandfather, and Raman Veer Ji—were all dead; the only one left was Sukkhi Veer Ji.

As if on cue, Sukkhi Veer Ji ran into her room, frantically calling her name. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Veer Ji?" she said, sitting up and taking her earphones out. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"We've all been called to a Panchayat!"

"Why?"

"Because of Papa! He went on ahead with Tai Ji, as soon as he got the letter, and now Mummy wants us all to go! She think he's done something bad again!"

"It's probably something to do with the Bajwas," she said, shaking her head.

As far as she knew, the last time the Panchayat had been called, it was because of her. What had Chacha done this time?

* * *

The hushed whispers started as soon as she stepped out of one of the family's jeeps, varying from statements about her being the former Shah to those about how she'd disgraced herself with the Bajwa boy. As she followed Sukkhi Veer Ji through the crowd, she even heard the word 'whore' uttered once or twice. What was surprising was that these obscenities were spoken by her own clansmen and women, not the enemy, many of them being subjects she'd helped and looked after during her days as Shah. In a way, their duplicity hurt far more than Raj's, because they were her blood. They'd loved her, once. Now that she was a woman, all that love was for nought. Kind of like Raj's love. Circumstantial.

Bolstering some pride and dignity, she marched towards the chairs her mother and uncle were sitting on, wilfully ignoring the stares of the lesser Pawaniyas. Instead, her eyes slid to the chairs on the other side of the Panchayat, occupied by people she'd never before seen in her life. She'd never known her uncle to fight with anyone who wasn't a Bajwa. Well, not seriously enough to warrant intervention by the Panchayat.

"But why have I been called here?" Chacha demanded, seemingly just as confused as she. "And who are these people?" He rudely waved his hand about in the general direction of the plaintiffs.

"These are men from Charminder Sangwan's clan," the Sarpanch said. "You've been accused of breaking into one of their warehouses and stealing from them."

Preet's gaze flit back to her uncle, who stood up from his seat in outrage. "Why would I break into one of Charminder's warehouses?! I own more of those than he does, and each one is bigger than all of his put together!"

"Only you can tell us that," said one of the other Panch, taking something out of his pocket. "If you didn't go to their warehouse, then how did this get in there?"

He proceeded to hold up a magnificent kalgi, though not one that Preet recognised. And she knew the Pawaniya kalgis well; they were the only jewellery-type items she'd been able to wear as Manu and, as such, she had a special appreciation for them.

Chacha seemed to be flabbergasted, lost for words, when Mummy, of all people, spoke up in his defence.

"That's Bau Ji's kalgi! It went missing when he was killed by the Bajwas!"

"Hah!" Chacha let out, falling back into his seat. "This is their doing! That dirty Harjeet can't stand that my niece returned without any drama, so he decided to cause some himself by framing me!"

Sensing all eyes on her, Preet stared at the huge tree behind the Panchayat. She knew Raj was responsible for the whole ordeal. The timing was far too convenient for it to be mere coincidence; he'd offered to help reinstate her as Shah only last week, and she hadn't exactly rejected him. Of course, she hadn't accepted either, but when did he ever listen to her? If he'd been the type to do that, he never would've regarded her as Raman Veer Ji's murderer in the first place.

"How can you prove that you've been framed?" another one of the Panch asked. "Where's the proof that this kalgi's been missing for thirty years?"

"I'm proof," Preet said. It wasn't fair that Chacha should get into trouble for something he didn't do. "I was Shah for eighteen years and my father was Shah before that. Neither of us were ever seen wearing that kalgi. You can ask everyone."

The Panch sneered. "You hid the truth about yourself from this entire village, and even members of your own family. We can't trust anything you say."

Heat rushed to Preet's face and she quickly closed her mouth, hearing the sniggers and murmurs of agreement in the crowd. For a moment, she'd forgotten who she was—Preet, not Manu. Never again.

* * *

The Panchayat meet ended up lasting a whole hour, only finishing when the Sarpanch decided that Chacha's guilt could neither be proven nor disproven beyond reasonable doubt. Unfortunately, that hadn't been a good enough answer for the Sangwans, who were still missing a dozen bags of stock. So, in order to appease them, Chacha had been removed from his seat and replaced by the next in line.

Now, back at home, Preet cringed as Chacha ranted about the Shah position being snatched from him and given to Sukkhi Veer Ji. The new Shah cowered in the corner of one of the sofas, watching his mother unsuccessfully try to calm his father down. Preet, herself, warily eyed her newly demoted uncle, wondering if or rather when he would turn on her.

Despite their deal, he was still as dangerous a man as he always had been. If he thought she'd had anything to do with his demotion, he wouldn't sit idle. And remaining silent like this, waiting for him to pounce, would only make her look more guilty.

"Chacha," she spoke, keeping her voice steady.

He briefly turned away from his wife who was fussing over him, irritation marring his features. "What? What is it?"

"I think Raj Bajwa did this."

That seemed to gain his full attention, as he firmly waved Chachi off and told Sukkhi Veer Ji to leave the room as well. His son was all too eager to comply, leaving the uncle-niece duo alone together.

"You think?" he asked, stepping closer to the cot she was sitting on. "Or you know?"

Preet noted the dangerous gleam in his eyes. If he hadn't suspected her involvement before, he definitely did now. Maybe she should've kept her mouth shut, but it was too late to back away now.

"I think," she confirmed, standing her ground. "How can I know for sure? But, yes, R—I mean _that Bajwa _wasn't too happy when I told him I wouldn't forgive him. I think he's gone and done this to cause a rift between us, uncle and niece, so that I have no choice but to turn back to him for support."

He nodded. "It's possible. But how do I know he hasn't done all this on your saying so?"

"This is exactly what I mean, Chacha! He wants you to suspect me! He wants you to throw me out! As for this Shah drama, why would I have you replaced with Sukkhi Veer Ji? He's your heir; he would've eventually become Shah anyway."

"That's true." She held her breath as he circled her. "So what you're saying is that that Bajwa might have done all this to get you back as his wife?"

"Yes."

"And what if he's got other motives? What if he's trying to gain your trust again by removing your enemy—me—so that he can humiliate you once more? Have you considered that?"

The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She'd been so busy trying to figure out how to trap Raj that the possibility of him trapping her again hadn't occurred to her. But Chacha was right. Sure, Raj no longer had a personal reason to seek revenge from her, but what if he was still willing to do whatever it took to keep the enmity between their two clans alive, to remain in favour of his father?

After all, he wasn't the same boy she'd been best friends with eleven years ago. That Raj had been a quiet, sensitive child. This Raj, though? She didn't know him. And that meant he could be capable of anything.


	4. Chapter 4

"Catch her!"

"Don't let her get away!"

Holding onto her dupatta for dear life, Preet tore through the village roads with wild abandon. The mob of goons behind her would catch up with her sooner or later yet she had no idea how she would beat them all when it came time. She could throw a rock at one and throw her dupatta around another but she was being chased by at least five men, not two. There was no way she'd be able to beat them on her own.

Decided, she turned and ran into the forest wherein lay her second home, or at least what used to be, before her greatest enemy had decided to practically take residence up there. Speaking of the enemy...

"Raj!" she shrieked, as the Friend's Corner came into sight. "Raj! Save me!"

Keenly aware that the men were closing in on her, she didn't dare stop to see if Raj was actually there or not, continuing to call out for him as she ran through the clearing that surrounded their childhood hang-out. Less than ten seconds later, he confirmed his presence, calling her name out in return. Keeping up her pace, she briefly turned her head in the direction of his voice and caught a flash of red amongst the greenery.

It was now or never.

Spotting a fallen log near the neck of the clearing, she ran straight towards it. As intended, she tripped up, landing on the ground with a hard thud. The goons wasted no time in surrounding her, and as she sat up, she was surprised to find that they were a group of four. She could've sworn they were five...

"Hey, larki!" one yelled, brandishing a large wooden stick. "We've been paid a fortune to teach you a lesson!"

He made a deliberate show of hitting her and she immediately braced herself, only for him to stop short at the last second. Dropping her stance, she made eye contact with him to see that he was giving her a meaningful look, and breathed a sigh of relief. So, these men had been paid to pretend after all; she'd had her doubts, considering who their benefactor was.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, backing away from him, only to hit the goon standing behind her.

Hearing loud footfalls approaching, she looked at the goon who'd spoken, the probable leader, and signalled him to continue.

"Hey!" Raj shouted, knocking one of the other goons out of the way. "Stay away from her!"

"Make us!"

And so he did.

Over the next few minutes, Preet watched on in feigned terror as her husband fought off the goons like he had last year when his father had sent an even bigger mob after her. She frowned, realising that he'd only done so that time in order to gain her trust; by that point, he'd already decided to play with her heart and publicly humiliate her. Given her last conversation with her uncle, she wasn't so sure that he wasn't playing that same game again right now.

Raj threw the last of the mobsters to the ground before rushing over to her and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Bristling at his traitorous touch, she immediately brushed him off and attempted to stand up on her own, only to fall back down on her rear when her ankle failed to hold her weight. Tripping had been necessary in enacting her and Chacha's plan, but she'd ended up injuring herself for real. Hence, she had no choice but to accept Raj's help, placing an arm around his shoulder and allowing him to hold her around the waist.

Once they entered the Friend's Corner, she couldn't get away from him fast enough, lowering herself against the nearest wall and all but pushing him off. If he'd noticed her distress at being close to him, he didn't let it show, opting to sit across from her.

"Who sent those goons after you?" he asked. "I didn't realise the Pawaniyas had enemies besides the Bajwas."

"We don't," she answered, trying to move her ankle. She hissed in pain. "Our family's enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Chacha's been looking funny at me these last couple of days. I'm sure he thinks I had something to do with his demotion."

Raj's Adam's Apple visibly bobbed. "So you think he sent those goons after you? His own niece?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? You've seen for yourself how many times he tried to get rid of me as a child. Even now, he still sees me as a threat, whether I'm a man or a woman. The fact that this demotion happened a week after my return doesn't really help matters."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Preet. I didn't mean to put you in harm's way. If I'd even had an inkling that your uncle would react like this, I never would've—"

"It was you?" she interrupted, her voice betraying her emotion. He'd said he hadn't meant to harm her, but how could she believe that? He, of all people, knew how dangerous her uncle was. "You stole the Sangwan's stock and put my Darji's kalgi in their warehouse? _Why_?"

"I thought that if I got your uncle removed from his seat, you'd be reinstated. I never thought that they'd make Sukkhi Shah instead. I'm sorry for messing it up."

"Don't be sorry; that's the one thing you did right. Despite his faults, Sukkhi Veer Ji's an improvement on Chacha. At least he's not a tyrant."

He nodded, smiling small. "So you're not angry?"

"Of course, I am!" she snapped. "The enmity with the Bajwas has been going on long enough; do you really think we need another one? You've shamed us! What must my people be thinking? That our clan's become so poor that our Shah had to resort to stealing from another clan?! And a smaller one at that!"

Raj slapped his hand on his forehead. "Oh no, I didn't even think of that... Look, I'll return their bags of stock to them, and it'll all be okay."

"No, it won't! It'll either look like we took an unauthorised loan from them and took over a week to pay it back, or that someone wanted to cause trouble between us and them! And you know what'll happen then, don't you? A bloodbath between my clan and yours!"

Furious, she tried and failed to rise to her feet once more. He shot up to help, placing one arm around her back and the other under her knees, and picking her up in one fluid motion. She felt herself quake in his arms, blood rushing to her cheeks.

"Put me down!"

"I will," he said, flashing her an infuriating grin like he used to when trying to seduce her. When planning to betray her. "Just let me take you home. My jeep's nearby."

She begrudgingly acquiesced, letting him carry her away like she was his bride. With a twisted ankle and no phone on her person, she had little else choice.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Preet slowly hobbled through the turquoise painted doors of her home, wincing with every step she took. In order to avoid gossip and unnecessary drama, she'd asked Raj to drop her off just outside the Pawaniya turf, but her ankle had suffered for it; as the residence of the clan leader, their mansion was in the centre of their turf, a long walk from where she'd been dropped off.

Mummy looked up from where she was sitting in the living area, relief washing over her face. "Where have you been?!" she demanded, leaping out of her seat and running over to Preet. "I've been worried sick!"

"I just went to the market," Preet answered, waving a dismissive hand about as her mother guided her to the cot she'd been occupying. "It gets boring sitting at home doing nothing all day. Anyway, some idiot pushed into me just as I was leaving and this"—she pointed at her ankle—"happened."

"Which idiot?"

"Some woman from our clan," she lied quickly, keeping her gaze fixed on her ankle as Mummy fussed over it. "I don't really know her name, but I've seen her around... I guess some people still haven't forgiven me—us—for ourlie."

A hiccup suddenly escaped her throat and Mummy's hands stilled. Horrified, Preet didn't dare look at her mother. This hadn't happened in years; as with her many other childhood habits, she'd thought this unfortunate side-effect of lying had died with Simi Didi. Apparently not, she decided, as another one ripped out of her, and Mummy grabbed her wrist as abruptly as the hiccups had begun.

"Now tell me the truth, Preet," Mummy demanded through gritted teeth, yanking her forward so that she was forced to meet her steely gaze. "My sources told me they saw you talking to your Bajwa husband just outside our turf."

Preet struggled against her mother's harsh grip. "Mummy—"

"Arrey, what's happening here, bhai?" came Chacha's airy voice, and Preet peered up to see him sauntering down the stairs. "Parjai, your daughter's ankle needs tending to and here you are, trying to injure her wrist instead."

Mummy let go of Preet's wrist, her head snapping up in her brother in law's direction. "How do you know her ankle's hurt from all the way up there?" She momentarily looked back to Preet, her eyes filled with worry. "What have you done, Jagan?" Chacha opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off. "Look, I've quietly tolerated your mistreatment of me for over a year now but I won't stand for you hurting my daughter."

"Calm down, Parjai," he said, making the rest of his way downstairs. "I wouldn't hurt my own niece."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Arrey, Mummy," Preet interrupted, eager to avoid a fight. She needed Chacha on her side to get her revenge, and she didn't really want to have to choose between him and Mummy. "Chacha must've seen my ankle from the gallery. Right, Chacha?"

The man in question nodded, donning a smile that could only be described as dodgy, before tipping his head to the side, and although Preet didn't quite understand exactly what he was asking, she nodded in return; they would take about it later to dispel any doubt, but he could only be asking something along the lines of if her suspicions about Raj had been correct. Speaking of suspicions, she caught Mummy's gaze slowly sliding between her and Chacha who quickly turned away, calling for Chachi to bring some ice from the kitchen.

"Answer my question, Preet," Mummy said, undeterred. "If you went to our market, then were you doing _outside_ our turf, talking to that traitor husband of yours?" Preet rubbed the inside of her wrist, searching for a plausible explanation, aware of both her uncle and mother's gazes burning into her. "I heard you were sitting in his jeep as well. I have to say that I didn't expect this from you. Have you forgotten what he did to you in front of the whole village?"

That got her blood boiling.

"No, Mummy, I haven't," she answered, her hands curling up into fists. Chachi silently placed a bowl of ice on a nearby table, and Chacha waved her off. "I'll never forget. But, yes, I was sitting in his jeep. It's not what you're thinking, though. I hate him even more than you do."

"So what were you doing then? Why were you there?"

"I called him there to get him to sign divorce papers for me."

Mummy and Chacha exchanged shocked looks, before the wide-eyed former said, "No woman in this village has ever asked for a divorce. Why should you?"

Preet clamped down on her nerves, taking in a deep breath. "Because I want to be free of him... and I want you to look for a new husband for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use the word 'turf' here to denote 'ilaaka'. I'm not sure if it's the correct translation in terms of the context it was used in in the show, but 'area' sounded too formal.


	5. Chapter 5

Preet yawned as she trudged into her bathroom, contentedly tired after a day of actual work. Soon after the staged attack, Mummy had entreated Chacha, who spent his days antagonising the Bajwas, to give Preet something to do to keep her occupied, or rather, out of trouble; it was no secret that Mummy had lost all trust in daughters after what had happened to Simi Didi, a fear that had only been exacerbated by Preet's own dishonour at the hands of Raj. Chacha had refused to take Preet along with him on his own exploits, insisting that it was no place for a woman, but had suggested that she accompany Sukkhi on his daily errands instead. She'd happily agreed, having preferred that option anyway.

It had only been a few days since she'd stepped into her new role, and she already couldn't imagine her life without it. Given that Sukkhi Veer Ji required a lot of her guidance and expertise, she almost felt like Shah again. Almost. There were still those who whispered about the shame she'd brought upon her family and the whole clan, either assuming she couldn't hear them or not caring either way. She tried to ignore them as best as she could, but it was difficult when she couldn't see an end to it; if these people still spoke of a dead girl's scandalous love affair eleven years after the fact, why would they ever stop badmouthing someone who was very much alive and somewhat in the public eye?

She sighed as she finished washing up. Maybe it was a good thing Simi Didi had died when she had. With Raman Veer Ji dead, she and their child would've suffered a lifetime of scrutiny. It hadn't escaped Preet's notice that no one judged him for his indiscretion, only her sister, just as no one vilified Raj for his betrayal, not even her own clansfolk who were meant to be on her side. Such was the harsh reality.

Clad in a silk nightgown, she exited the bathroom and pulled back the covers on her bed, intent on getting some well-deserved rest, when she saw a man lying in the centre of the mattress. She let out an ugly shriek, wrapping her arms around herself to guard her modesty.

The man turned his head towards her, revealing himself to be the last person she wanted to see right now.

"_What_ are you doing here?! Get out or I'll scream again!"

He bolted up into a seated position, looking around in panic; he no doubt recalled the beating she'd subjected him to not two weeks prior.

"No, don't!" he pleaded, holding a hand out. "I just want to talk to you! Honest!"

"Well then I'll drop by the Friend's Corner tomorrow! But you can't be here right now! I need to sleep!"

"Oh, please!"

"No!"

He shot out of the covers, shuffling towards the foot of the bed. "I'll sit over here. I really just want to talk. We're friends again, aren't we?"

Never. But she still needed his co-operation in the divorce court.

"What do you want to talk about so badly that it couldn't wait until tomorrow?" she asked, sitting right in front of one of her pillows, as far away from him as she possibly could. "It better be good."

"Mohini's downfall."

She could hardly say no to that. "Go on, then," she said, drawing the covers over her knees.

He nodded, launching into his story. "After you left, I went back home way overconfident, thinking that because I'd finally gained Papa's respect, it'd be easy to sway him into kicking _her_ out. But it wasn't. I'd underestimated the effects of her ten year stay here, the way she had him, and even Rohan Veer Ji, dancing to her tunes. For one, Papa still insisted that she had greater rights on him than Mummy did; he said Mummy could come back home since she'd raised a son like me, but would have to take up residence in a guest room. In her own house!

So, for the better part of the next year, I plotted against Mohini, determined to make her look bad in Papa's eyes. Of course, she gave it right back to me, trying not only to get rid of me but also doing everything possible to prevent my mother from even returning. Mummy didn't really help matters; she was adamant about not coming back at first because she disapproved of what I'd done to you."

"How did she know?" Preet asked, noting his tactful way of referring to his betrayal of her. Never 'dhokha' or 'shaadi', but merely something he'd 'done', sounding as insignificant a task as a walk down the road or a trip to the market. Coldly impersonal, just like him. "I thought she went back to Delhi after the fire."

The fire she'd foolishly tried to put out with her pagdi cloth, painting herself as a target for Raj's revenge. Then again, maybe that was a good thing, given the fact that his initial target had been Gunjan Didi. At least she'd managed to save one sister.

"I don't know, actually," Raj answered, his brows knitting together. "I wouldn't be surprised if Mohini called her up and told her herself... Anyway, I did eventually get her to come back when I told her that her other son, the one she wasn't angry with, needed her. Rohan Veer Ji was in such a bad way back then; he drank and drank because he held himself responsible for Raman Veer Ji's murder. He thought that if he hadn't told Papa about the wedding, Raman Veer Ji would still be alive and Mummy would've never left. He's probably right..."

Preet wrinkled her nose in disgust. Raj had hated Rohan as a child, for good reason, yet when it came to Raman Veer Ji's murder, Rohan was blameless, even though he rightfully blamed himself, and she, Raj's best friend, was instantly guilty. It occurred to her then that he'd likely never regarded her as a true friend in the first place because if he had, he would've at least given her a chance to explain herself. What did that make her, then? An even bigger fool than she already was?

"What happened next?"

"Mohini's schemes got even worse; in addition to creating rifts between me and Papa, she tried to turn Rohan Veer Ji against me and Mummy both. She succeeded. In the end, none of us four were talking to each other, so I got desperate. I went to her afterwards, pretending to give in to her greatness in the hopes of goading her into confession and recording it. I never would've guessed what she ended up telling me: all of her sins, or achievements as she called them, including the biggest one of them all... Murdering Raman Veer Ji and framing you for it. After that, I played the recording in front of everyone, and Papa finally avenged Raman Veer Ji's murder by killing Nihaal."

She shook her head, laughing dryly.

"What?" Raj asked, sounding confused.

"If Raman Veer Ji was avenged by killing Nihaal, then what about my sister? What's the point of her death now?"

He pursed his lips, looking as if the thought had never crossed his mind. "I don't—"

"There isn't one. She died in vain, and _your_ father's the one who killed her."

A silence passed between them, and then: "What if Pammi died? Simi Didi died because of Mohini, first and foremost, and since her son was killed for Papa's son, her daughter should be killed for your mother's daughter. After all, she started all this to get revenge on your mother."

Preet's blood froze. How could he speak so easily of murder? The Raj she had known never would've even thought of killing, let alone express it out loud. Had he really changed so much in the last eleven years? Or had he, perhaps, always been like this, truly his father's son? Had she been so wrong in recognising him? In reading him as a person?

"No," she replied, gripping the bedcovers closer. "I've got no desire to kill innocents."

* * *

Preet woke up with a start the next morning, remnants of a dream plaguing her mind: images of Simi Didi and Raman Veer Ji playing with a child, and then herself and Raj taking over as Mama and Chacha respectively. Or had it been Mausi and Chacha? The details escaped her as she became more awake, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She glanced down to see that she was neatly tucked in, and blinked in confusion. The last thing she recalled was herself clearly sitting up with her back to the headboard as Raj chatted with her, or rather at her.

Shrugging, she threw the covers off and went about getting ready for the day. After she'd refused what had undoubtedly been an offer to bump Pammi off, Raj had, in no time, changed the topic of conversation to one so insignificant that she couldn't even remember half of what he'd said. Still, she marvelled at him, namely at his ability to talk about cold-blooded murder one second and then something completely different, completely innocent, the next. Indeed, she had to have misunderstood his character as a child, because the more she spoke to him these days, the more he behaved like a psychopath.

Yet, there was still something of the old Raj in him. Why else would he have tucked her into bed at night, after she'd fallen asleep? There had been no reason for him put up an act of goodwill to gain her trust; he didn't know that she hadn't forgiven him, or that she never would. In that moment, he'd been as caring as he had when he'd bought her the dolls she'd so desperately craved, just to make her happy, or when he'd comforted her following Jai's death.

Horror washed over her as she splashed water on her face; that time after Jai had died, he'd also told her that he would've married her had she been a girl rather than a boy because no one would've loved him better than her. She looked up into her bathroom mirror, her matted, dyed brown hair clinging to her face.

What was she thinking? Was she falling into his trap again? How _could_ she?

She bit her lip, pushing herself away from the basin, away from the mirror. This was not to be borne. Her stupid feelings had got her where she was in the first place. She couldn't let it happen again. Without further adieu, she quickly set about putting some decent clothes on and going downstairs.

She wasn't even halfway down the stairs yet when she asked, "How's the search for my husband going?"

Chachi, who was serving Chacha his breakfast, peered up at her in shock. "Hai Rabba! Another husband?! When you're still wearing vermilion in someone else's name?"

"Leave it, Raavi," Mummy said, her face darkening. "I don't know what's happened to her. She's asked him for a divorce."

"Divorce?!"

Chacha, sat at the head of the table, a position he hadn't given up despite his son now being the clan head, rolled his eyes before looking to Preet as she took her place next to her mother. "I was thinking of getting you married to a Sangwan. Things have calmed down a little since the... theft... but this marriage'll really help smooth things over. Maybe we'll even gain an ally ag—"

"Stop right there, Jagan. I won't let another of my daughters be used as a bargaining tool. I haven't forgotten how you tried to sell Simran to that scoundrel."

"Mummy, please. I don't mind helping my family out. I wouldn't marry a scoundrel; I think I have better judgement than that."

"Oh, you think so do you? The same judgement that led to you marrying that loser who destroyed our family's honour in front of the whole village?"

Preet pressed her lips together in a thin line, her hands curling up into fists under the table. Now she was sure that Simi Didi was better off dead; Mummy would've never missed an opportunity to remind her of her mistakes otherwise. "I don't think Chacha's lined up a scoundrel for me." She turned to her uncle. "Have you, Chacha?"

"No, of course not," he said, though he seemed to be amused at the clash between mother and daughter. "I got Gunjan married to Aman, didn't I? And look how happy she is. You lived with her for a whole year; did you see him trouble her even once?"

Well, she hadn't. Aman Jijaji's parents had never been too warm towards Gunjan Didi but the man himself was decent, especially towards his wife's family. If not for him appointing his family's own lawyer to present her divorce petition, she would've still been waiting for her first hearing.

"Gunjan's happy because _I_ chose Aman for her," Mummy interjected, fixing Chacha with a glare. "Don't you forget that. And anyway, just who have you chosen for Preet? She can't marry any random Sangwan farmer; she's the daughter of our late Shah, niece of our former Shah, and cousin of our current Shah."

"I know. I've actually already spoken to the Shah of the Sangwans, and we're in luck; he has a nephew a few years older than Preet. Now, the boy won't be Shah because his uncle has a couple of sons, but it's a good match; his grandfather was a Shah and so was our Preet's."

"I won't believe it till I see the boy myself."

"Then do. I'm not stopping you." Chacha slid his gaze to Preet once more. "So, what do you say? Interested?"

Preet forced herself to smile, straightening up in her seat and giving her mother the side-eye. This was her chance to finally forget her feelings for Raj and focus on her revenge. Mummy's love and respect would surely follow.

"Yes," she answered, her eyes still on her mother. "Yes, I am."


	6. Chapter 6

"So," Babli began, sidling up to Preet in the back of Chacha's red jeep. "What did you think of Tekbir Jiju?"

"What's there to think?" Preet asked, trying to look innocent. "He's going to be my husband one day soon. That's what I think, or rather know"

Babli sighed, slapping a palm to her forehead. "Arrey, no Didi! That's not what I meant!"

Preet pressed a hand to her lips, suppressing her giggles. There was no one but her family and a few of the Sangwans around to see her, but the society they lived in was such that a woman was not to be seen expressing too much excitement or happiness in front of her future in laws, especially a woman soon to be divorced. It was unseemly enough that the pre-marriage rituals were already going ahead while she was still married to another man. If the rest of the village were to find out before the appropriate time, there would be repercussions for both the Pawaniyas and the Sangwans.

"Well, what did you mean, then?"

"Do you like him?"

Allowing herself some pause, Preet considered the question. It was a tricky one. Having eloped the first time around, entering an arranged marriage simply felt strange. When it'd come to choosing Raj for a husband, she hadn't had to think twice; he'd been her best friend since childhood and had effectively received Simi Didi's blessing ten years prior. Yet she and Tekbir Sangwan, the man who would become her husband before the year was out, had decided to spend the rest of their lives together based on a mere forty-five minute conversation.

If she had to judge him on what little time they'd had together—the initial meet and the short exchange of words at the Roka itself—then, yes, she liked him, for he was charming and kind enough. But what did she really know about him beyond his family background, interests, and their shared values? Nothing. As with Raj, she would only discover his true colours, whether good or bad, after the wedding, and that really scared her, because if she'd made such an error of judgement in her first choice of husband, what was the guarantee that she'd made the right decision now? What if, underneath the sweet words and smiles, Tekbir was just another Raj? There was no telling, not this early.

So she answered her cousin's innocent question accordingly. "Arrey, what would I know? I've barely spoken to him."

Babli pouted, clearly dissatisfied with the answer, but the arrival of the rest of the family prevented her from probing further. Preet smiled politely at Chachi as she slid into the seat next to her, hoping against hope that the journey home would be quick and uneventful, for Babli's curiosity was the least of her concerns. As of late, Raj was proving to be a problem, calling her at least once every day without fail to ask if they could meet up. She didn't want to spend any more time with him than necessary and if not for her revenge, she would've blocked his number and never looked back, but she feared him changing his mind about the divorce if she put him off any longer; there were still four and a half months left until they could file for the second motion.

Unfortunately, her phone rang once more while Chacha was still driving and, naturally, Chachi and Babli both turned to look at her. Tightly gripping her phone and mentally cursing Raj for his timing, she felt Mummy's gaze burning into the back of her head too. She quickly rejected the call, only for Raj to call again straight after.

"Why don't you pick it up?" Chachi asked from her left. "Who is it, anyway?"

Preet silently berated herself for not putting her phone on silent prior to the Roka before begrudgingly answering it. "Yes, Didi? Is there something you want?"

Chachi suddenly grabbed Preet's phone from her, holding it to her own ear. "Arrey, Gunjan, you've turned out to be impatient. Didn't I tell you we were on the way home when I called you earlier? Wait until your sister's home; she'll hardly want to talk about her Roka"—Preet squeezed her eyes shut, cringing—"in front of everyone, will she? Isn't that right, Preet?"

She nodded mutely. Now she had no choice but to see Raj; if he let news of her Roka slip, Mummy and Chacha would be out baying for blood. Bajwa blood, specifically.

"Oh," Chachi said, pulling the phone away from her ear. "She suddenly hung up."

Eyes snapping open, Preet took her phone from her aunt. "Uhh, yes, there's a problem with my phone's MIC; she probably couldn't hear anything on her end. I'll need to get it fixed. I'll go today, actually."

Now she even had the perfect excuse to explain her absence, she had no choice but to go and see Raj, no matter how much she didn't want to. She braced herself as they finally reached home. She would have to see him again one day anyway, both in court and when time came to further her revenge. She could do this.

* * *

She couldn't do this. She'd been standing in the Friend's Corner for a few minutes already, bearing the brunt of Raj's stern silence and accusing stare. She almost felt afraid to speak, remembering all too well what extents he'd gone to the last time she'd upset him, but forced the words out anyway.

"Are you going to talk anytime soon?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice devoid of emotion. "Because if not, I'm leaving. I've got better things to do."

She had everything to lose here, and he everything to gain. If the Sangwans even suspected that her family had anything to do with spreading news of her upcoming nuptials, they'd likely call the whole thing off; if Raj gave his father this opportunity to further destroy her family's honour, he'd only receive more of the paternal love and acceptance he'd craved his entire life.

"Like preparing for your wedding?"

"No. The wedding won't be for another few months. Five, to be exact."

He barked in laughter, the harsh sound making her jump. "Has no one ever told you that you shouldn't mix business and pleasure? I can only assume that's why you're marrying Charminder Sangwan's nephew. It's part of a business deal, isn't it? How very astute of you."

She blinked, horrified. How did he know who she was marrying? She'd come here with a solid plan to appease him and ensure his silence without revealing the identity of her future husband, but he'd crushed those futile hopes like he once had her heart. A heart that was still in pieces on the floor of temple where he'd left her.

"Don't look so shocked," he said, circling her. "Every household has a traitor. In yours, it was always your uncle. In the Sangwans', it's one of Charminder Shah Ji's most trusted... After your aunt mentioned the Roka, I had one of my men go and find out just who you'd agreed to marry."

"That doesn't make sense," she protested. "It's only been an hour since the Roka. How do you know already?"

"You're right. I already knew; I've known for quite a few days now. I was just waiting for you to admit it to me, or rather tell me. But you didn't. All you've done is avoid me for the last two weeks."

Frustration took a hold of her. "I haven't been avoiding you; I've been busy at work! I accompany Sukkhi Veer Ji on his business trips and assist him in his duties. I don't sit around at home, waiting for you to call me!"

"Come on, Preet. You didn't work that much back when you, yourself, were the Shah. Why would you as the Shah's assistant?"

"Because I was a man back then. I had certain liberties. Now that I'm a woman, and a previously disgraced one at that, I've got to ensure that not a single person can point a finger at me, including my own family members. The best way to do that is to stick to my Veer Ji at all times. No one's forgotten what happened last year, you know?"

Raj's face softened. "I'm sorry."

"You can be as sorry as you want. It won't change anything. What's done is done, and I'm still dealing with the consequences today."

"What more can I do? I feel so ashamed."

"You should."

"Wait," he said, taking an urgent step towards her. "Is that why you're getting married? Because your mother and uncle want you to? To repair your honour?"

She felt her brow climb to the high heavens. "What if I am? What's it to you?"

"How can you get married again? Don't you still love me?"

Her heart skipped a beat, a rush of heat assaulting her cheeks. How dare he? How dare he even think such a thing, let alone voice it? Her, love him? She was so past that. Oh, she'd loved him once, more than she'd ever thought possible, so much so that her heart had felt like it was going to burst by the time they'd finally walked around the holy fire together. Even more than she'd loved her mother, which was perhaps the ultimate reason she'd ended up as an abandoned wife—God's punishment meted out to an ungrateful daughter.

"I don't _love_ you," she spat, watching his face fall with a modicum of satisfaction. Still nowhere near enough, though. Only her revenge could satisfy her so.

"Look, I'll co-operate with you for the divorce, because it's the one thing you've asked me to do for you, but please don't get married to him. You've only done the Roka; it's not too late to call the whole thing off."

"Spending ten years in a city has made you forget the way things work here. A Roka ties a couple together for seven births. There's no breaking that."

He frantically shook his head. "I don't believe in that superstitious lark; legally, no couple is bound together until the wedding itself. You're not even engaged yet. Back off while you still can!"

"Why? What good will that do me? I'm lucky my uncle didn't pick out an old, social-climbing type of man like your father used to pick out for your aunt. As a previously married woman, where else will I get such a good proposal again? 

"From me!"

"What?"

"I'll marry you!"

Her eyes widened, her heart started beating even faster than it already had been. She hadn't thought it possible, holding her breath as he opened his mouth again.

"I've always had feelings for you," he confessed, his voice dropping a few notches. He almost sounded vulnerable. "I fell for you—Preet—the first time I saw you at the Holi party. You must know that already; I so much as told you—Manu—straight after, didn't I? I had no reason to lie, then. You know as well as I that it happened well before I found out your two guises were one and the same."

"But then you hated me. You pinched my wounds the day you found out, wounds I sustained saving _your_ mother."

"Yes. Yes, I did. But the hatred melted away as soon as I found out the truth, and now, seeing you here right in front of me, my feelings have returned full force. I can't help it."

As her—Manu's—once to be wife, Neha, had said, fate had a way of playing cruel games with people. Here Raj was, claiming his hatred had petered out to give way to love; here she was, the love she'd once harboured towards him having died long ago, leaving nothing but bitter poison in its stead. If only this was another life, one where everyone could forgive and forget. But it wasn't.

She crossed her arms. "And what about your girlfriend?" He blanched. "Arrey, don't look so shocked. Do you think you're the only one with sources? I've been told all about her: the mistress you so shamelessly kept in your own father's house."

To her own shame, she'd felt betrayed when she'd learnt of this city whore despite the passage of a year since Raj had humiliated her at the temple. She'd even found herself self-depreciatingly wondering if he'd physically cheated on her with this woman. Surely he had. It wasn't as if he had feelings for her, his wife, capable of stopping him.

He frowned. "She wasn't my mistress. She was my childhood friend; the one who helped me walk. She was also my fiancee; we got engaged a couple of months before I returned to Gaguwal. I initially brought her to the haveli to keep an eye on Mohini. Anyway, once Mohini was ousted, I went to my father to ask for his blessing, but he said no, and that was it; we broke up and she went back to Delhi."

"Why?"

"Hmm? Oh, because he didn't approve of the way she dressed. She was too modern. He was right; she wouldn't have been able to adapt to the lifestyle here." He looked down at his feet. "Just before I found out you were Preet, I was going to dump her for you—Preet—anyway."

She scoffed, forcing him to look back up at her. "What's the point of a man like you having feelings anyway? If your father told you to drop them, you'd do it within a heartbeat."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would. You couldn't even speak up for your friend from the city; what'll you say to your father about me, his enemy?"

His mouth hung open, no words coming out. Clearly, he had no answer to that.

"You lack the courage, Raj," she said, smiling smugly. "You care too much about what your father thinks... You're no Raman Veer Ji." His breath hitched, as if she'd stabbed him in the back. "I'm better of marrying Tekbir Ji. He's got no father, or mother for that matter, to bow and scrape in front of."

Turning on her heel, she headed for the exit. He grabbed her by the hand at the last moment. "No. Don't go."

Ignoring the tingling of her skin where he was touching her, she pulled her arm free and stared up at him. "Take my advice and stop chasing me, yaara. It's a waste of your time, and mine."

* * *

The next day, Preet rose early, dragging a reluctant Sukkhi Veer Ji out to settle an urgent dispute he'd been petitioned to sort out late last night. The matter had proven to be a complex, long-winded one, very much a mountain made out of a molehill, but with a well-intended sleight of hand, it had been done and dusted within the hour. That was how she found herself already at leisure to sit in the passenger seat of the jeep she used to drive around as Shah, waiting for Sukkhi Veer Ji to join her; he hadn't yet been able to kick his habit of nipping out for street food, despite now being their clan head.

She leant back in her seat, her mind wandering back to her Roka, and then, involuntarily, her argument with Raj. Now that she'd had the time to process it, the revelation that Raj had feelings for her pleased her. She'd been banking on reviving his strong loyalty as a friend to her to make the next part of the plan work, but this was so much better; love had the power to make one blind to reason, as she well knew from first-hand experience. The fact that her own heart had been singing since last night had nothing to do with it, or so she told herself. How else would she sleep at night?

Her ears suddenly perked up as she heard the name Harjeet Bajwa. She sat up straight, zoning in on a pair of middle-aged women standing by a stall to the right of the jeep. Once she knew they were the culprits, she quickly averted her gaze, but continued to listen.

"Searching for a bride..."

"At least it's for his son this time. I almost thought he was looking for a third wife."

"No, he wouldn't. His sons are older now; they wouldn't let him bring in another co-wife for his mother."

"If I wasn't a Pawaniya, I'd give my daughter to them. Imagine being the Shah's daughter-in-law. She'd never want for anything..."

"Actually, I have a cousin who's looking for a groom for her daughter. They live in the next village over."

Preet shook her head, confused. According to Raj, Rohan had only recently been rehabilitated. Why was their father so desperate to get him married already? Surely, it would be wise to give him time to adjust to normal life before shackling him with the responsibilities of marriage? Then again, Harjeet Bajwa wasn't known for being wise. After all, this was the man who'd married his son's murderer and provided for her and her children for ten whole years. Maybe Auntie Amrit had some sense about her, but unless Mohini's betrayal had changed him for the better, her husband probably couldn't care less for her opinion.

"Oh, there she is."

The hairs on Preet's arms stood up as she spotted the women turn to look at her. Her being seen helping Sukkhi Veer Ji had been somewhat good for her public image, but there were still those who hated her for either parading around as a boy for eighteen years or bringing shame upon the clan via her scandalous marriage. Or both. What would they call her today? The Bajwas' whore? The slut who dared rise above her place in society?

"A second marriage. What will she do?"

Barely refraining from snapping her head towards the pair, Preet panicked. How did they know about her upcoming marriage? Had Raj, in a fit of anger, let the news slip after all? It was the only explanation; for all that Chacha liked to create trouble for her and her mother, the benefits of a Sangwan-Pawaniya alliance far outweighed his silly fancies.

"Poor girl. Her husband's already discarded her, but to have a co-wife so young... She's got bad luck, this one."

"Or she's got the evil eye on her. I wouldn't put it past her aunt. She's the mother of the Shah now but back when her son was a child, she was desperate for his father to be Shah instead of his cousin. She must've cursed the child the day she was born, not knowing that she was no threat after all."

Preet sucked in a deep breath, feeling like she'd been punched in the guts. If she'd had any doubt as to who the women were talking about, that last statement had blown everything out of the water; Harjeet Bajwa was searching for a new bride for his youngest, not the eldest surviving. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she quickly wiped at them when she felt Sukkhi Veer Ji climb up into the driver's seat.

"Ohhh, they're great!" he exclaimed. She turned to face him as he held out a packet of whatever it was he'd bought towards her. "Do you want some?"

Not trusting her voice, she shook her head, and he shrugged, rambling about how he had to finish them before reaching home to avoid his parents' wrath. As he proceeded to scoff the whole packet down, she looked out at the market straight ahead, her mind travelling back to yesterday's meet in the Friend's Corner.

Her face grew hot. There was no way this was a new development; news of the Bajwas' dealings, let alone the clan head's, didn't spread into the enemy's turf the very same day, or even the morning after. In other words, there was no way Raj hadn't known about what his father had in mind for him when he'd met up with her yesterday. So, had he lied to her yet again? Told her what he thought she wanted to hear to lull her into a false sense of security, just like last time? Now that his brother was capable of more than just drinking, was he, perhaps, in need of another master stroke plan to cement his place as his father's one and only heir? It didn't take a genius to figure out that Harjeet Bajwa would enjoy the humiliation of any Pawaniya, regardless of whether they'd killed his son or not.

Any guilt she'd felt at potentially playing with him was now moot. The next time she saw him, she'd have to stoke any potential flames of love—his feelings—until he became fully mad for her. And if there weren't any, she'd just have to create some. The end result would be the same: she would come out on top, and he would, inevitably, sink.


	7. Chapter 7

"You're here."

"Of course I am. How could I not be?"

Wrinkling her nose at the faint smell of alcohol, Preet tentatively entered the Friend's Corner, her ornate lehenga brushing against the floor. Wary of returning home with a stain on both her clothes and reputation, she remained standing in the middle of the tiny shack as Raj eyed her from where he was propped up against the weak boarded wall on the far right, taking a swig of from his bottle of alcohol.

"You look amazing... Soniyo."

"Thank you, Jaan-E-Mann," she replied, casually tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. At one time, she would've blushed at the term of endearment, but now it only served to bolster her confidence. Not in her beauty, as it would've coming from anyone else's lips, but in executing her plan, the sole reason she'd come to meet him in the first place. "It's a gift from my Veer Ji. He wanted me to look my best for my sangeet."

"Was _he_ there? Your..." He stumbled, his bottle still in one hand as he attempted to push himself up to a stand against the wall. "What do you call him? Tekbir_ Ji_?"

"No, but his cousins and aunt were. It was a ladies' sangeet. I expect he's having his own party at his place."

"His uncle's place, you mean. He's got no place of his own; he's only an orphan at the mercy of his Shah."

"Unlike me, he's been blessed with a good uncle. Charminder Chacha Ji treats him like a son."

"But he's still got no security!" Raj exclaimed, swinging the glass bottle around. "The day he loses his uncle's favour, he'll be cast out and then what'll happen to you? You'll probably end up living somewhere like here, like you did the last time you ended up without a home."

Preet tilted her head. "No, Raj, you forget... The last time I ended up homeless, my sister and her husband took me in."

She let her words hang in the air, relishing in the guilt written all over her ex-husband's face. He was a selfish being, always forgetting his own wrongs and harping on about everyone else's, but after today, he wouldn't be able to forget even if he tried. She'd make sure of it.

"So what happens now, Preet? Do we just forget everything and get married to other people? Me to the bride my father picked for me, and you to the groom your uncle picked for you? Forget that we were once friends, that we once loved each other?"

"What else _can_ we do? This world is Harjeet Bajwa's and Jagan Pawaniya's. It always has been. They didn't let my father and your grandfather keep the peace between our clans, nor did they let your brother and my sister unite. Why would it be any different for us?" She let out a loud sigh. "Anyway, why am I drawing comparisons? There's no question of us uniting. Raman Veer Ji actually went to your father and told him that he wanted to marry Simi Didi. He was willing to die for her. He didn't quietly accept the bride your father picked for him either."

"I'm not a coward!" he shouted, throwing his bottle on the ground.

She flinched at the resounding crash. "I didn't say you were."

"Didn't you? Why else do you keep bringing up Raman Veer Ji?"

"'Keep'?"

"Yes, keep. What was it you said that day I confronted you about your Tekbir Ji? Oh yes: that I was no Raman Veer Ji. I guess you're right, though; I'll never measure up to him. Neither will Rohan Veer Ji."

"Then why don't you do something about it instead of moping around?" Preet asked, crossing her arms. "Why not follow in his footsteps and make him proud? Don't you think that wherever he is, he'd be happy to see you stand up for what you want?"

Raj gave her a look of palpable disbelief. "I tried, didn't I? I've asked you to run away with me _so_ many times, but your answer has always been no." She clucked her tongue, shaking her head, and he stared at her. "What?"

"You're right. What was I thinking? You'll never be Raman Veer Ji. You can't even tell the difference between eloping and taking a stand!" She shook her head again, her voice rising. "Do you seriously think I want to run?! Well, no, I don't! We've already tried the eloping thing once, and look how that turned out... you betrayed me and ran off back to your father!"

He seemed to process this, closing his eyes and swallowing deeply, before falling to his knees in front of her with a thud. She resisted the urge to back away from him, overwhelmed by the stench of his alcohol drenched shirt. He was either oblivious to how bad he smelt, or he just didn't care. It was ironic that he'd pulled his brother out of alcoholism but now appeared to have a drinking problem himself. Some would call it bad luck, but she called it karma.

"I promise I'll never abandon you again," he said, dramatically throwing his arms out. "I'll keep you happy... as happy as you can be. All you've got to do is run with me..."

To her horror, her nose tingled, signalling an onslaught of tears. Sucking in a breath, she couldn't help but recall the early days at Gunjan Didi's, back when she used to lock herself away in the guest bedroom and sit in front a mirror, numbly filling her maang in as an abandoned wife. And for who? Him? The man who'd been relaxing at his father's abode, having his bed warmed by his city whore? Her cheeks warmed at how pathetic she had been. She could never be that woman—girl—again. She wouldn't.

"No," she replied, willing the tears away. "I can't. I won't elope again."

"Please... I know you find it hard to trust me again, but I was stupid back then. So stupid. Not anymore. I'll marry you and take you back to Delhi. I'll work as a wedding planner again. Anything. I'll do it for you.

"Really? Anything?"

"Anything."

She leant forward, drawing her gaze level with his. "Then make that known to everyone. On my wedding day, come to my home and tell my mother you want to marry me, and then do it." She saw a hint of hesitation in his eyes, and immediately turned away. "But it's okay if you can't. I'll marry Tekbir Ji instead. Better for me to marry a _real man_ who takes me for his wife in front of the whole world than someone who tries to spirit me away under everyone's noses."

Preet made to walk away, but Raj latched on to her dupatta, stopping her in her tracks. She tipped her chin up, vindicated, before turning to face him again. "What?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"I'll do it," he said, bunching the dupatta up in his hands. "I'll make you and Raman Veer Ji and even Simi Didi proud."

Her blood curdled at the mention of her sister. She felt like slapping him, the son of her sister's murderer, for daring to utter her name with his filthy mouth, but reined her emotions in. Her plan was so close to coming to fruition; it was a matter of days. It'd be a shame to ruin everything now.

"What about your bride? You won't suddenly change your mind at the last minute because you feel guilty or something?"

"No."

Not that she'd expected him to say any different. When he'd ditched two childhood friends without a second thought, what was a random girl he barely knew? Thinking of the girl, she felt a minute twinge of guilt for practically arranging for her to be spurned at the mandap, but banished it to the back of her mind. If the worst came to worst, she would take it upon herself to arrange another marriage for the girl. After all, ruining the lives of innocents was Raj's forte, not hers.

Speaking of Raj, she snapped out of her thoughts when she saw him making a move to stand. She hadn't even started on the second phase of her agenda yet. "Arrey, arrey!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm. "You don't look well enough to stand. Take it easy."

He made a garbled noise of what sounded like protest but let her lower him back to the floor nonetheless. Deciding that her revenge was more important than the lehenga after all, she sat down next to him, spying an unopened bottle of alcohol on the far end of the shack, where he'd been sitting earlier. She gave him a side-long glance, taking in his dishevelled appearance. One more drink and he'd be out cold, and then she'd finally be able to do what she came here to do.

"Is there any water around here?" she asked, feigning innocence. "I'm parched." He muttered something intelligible and she rolled her eyes before making a show of noticing the bottle. "Ohhh, there's some right there!"

She didn't quite know if he was _that_ drunk yet, but she'd take her chances. She pushed her rear off the floor, bracing her weight on her hands, when Raj started chuckling. She frowned. "What?"

"Arrey, pagli," he slurred, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. She shivered as her rear end hit the floor, his more than warm hand resting on her bare waist. She suddenly regretted choosing to meet him without changing into something more modest first. He continued, seemingly unaware of her discomfort: "That's alcohol, not water."

She could only manage an awkward smile, feeling the strands of her carefully constructed plan come apart in her mind. He wouldn't drink any further, that much was clear, but how else was she to get him unconscious? Whether due to the excitement of her sangeet or sheer complacency, she hadn't even thought to bring sleeping pills.

"Raj," she began, trying to relax under his touch. "You look so tired... maybe you should rest a while."

He vehemently shook his head like a drowsy child refusing to be put to bed by his mother. "Don't leave me."

Now he sounded like one too, the vulnerability in his voice making something stick in her throat. She swallowed hard against it, an inexplicable sense of guilt weighing down on her chest. She marvelled at herself; what did _she_ have to feel guilty for?

The guilt was all his; _he_ had betrayed her, played with her feelings, humiliated her mother. She was only returning the favour. If anything, she was merciful because she wasn't inclined to dragging his mother into her revenge, no matter how much she felt her own mother needed retribution. No, there was no need for guilt here. As it was, his status as a man meant he'd bounce back from his humiliation much sooner than she had—or rather, still was—anyway.

"I won't," she said, noticing his line of sight fall well below her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat for she knew where he was looking and why, but she kept her own gaze firmly fixed in place as something occurred to her. In Raj's drunken state, a bout of physical activity was almost guaranteed to drive him to sleep faster than anything else.

No sooner had the thought entered her mind than she felt the urge to violently shake herself by the shoulders. She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, shame welling up in her as the enormity of what she'd just considered hit her. She, Manpreet Pawaniya, had been ready, if only momentarily, to lie on her back for the enemy, just to get him to sleep. She'd been ready to let him touch her with his traitorous hands, a right that would soon belong to another, just to proceed with her revenge.

Had she really become so vengeful that she would follow in her uncle's footsteps, bedding a Bajwa for her own ends? Was her revenge really that important to her that she would forget propriety and self-respect?

As Raj reached up to run a thumb across her bloodied lip, the answer rang loud and clear in her mind.

Yes.

* * *

Forty five minutes later, Preet hid behind the tree in the centre of the Pawaniya Haveli's courtyard, straining her ears to listen to receding footfalls. Sneaking past the security had always been easy for her, which was quite worrying now that she thought about it, but Sukkhi Veer Ji's men seemed to be more alert tonight; she'd already been thwarted twice in attempting to climb up to her room, having been forced to duck when she heard footfalls of unknown men enter the premises. She had briefly considered creating a diversion but in the pitch black of the night, she'd been unable to see both something to throw and the person or people she would distract.

Finally, the latest footfalls receded into nothingness and the coast seemed to be clear. Wasting no time, Preet kicked off her high heels and deftly swept them up with one hand before gripping the bark of tree with the other. Ignoring the soreness in between her legs, she quickly realised that climbing up in a lehenga was much harder than coming down in one but forced herself up nonetheless, wary of being caught out as an intruder in her own home.

She was right to be wary, for as soon as she stepped down onto the balcony, she heard someone enter the courtyard. Having left the doors to her room ajar upon leaving, she swiftly pushed them open and ran inside, closing her eyes and sighing in relief as she slammed them shut behind her.

"Where were you?"

Her eyes immediately snapped open, darting at once towards the door to her ensuite, from where her mother had just emerged. Or maybe she'd been standing there the whole time, and Preet simply hadn't noticed. While she struggled to form coherent thoughts, her lips and throat becoming dry, Mummy approached her, scrutinising her from head to toe, her gaze lingering on Preet's lips.

"And who were you with?"

Uncomfortable in the face of her mother's obvious displeasure, Preet made a beeline for the full length mirror next to her wardrobe, only to become shocked at her reflection. Heat flared from the base of her throat all the way to her hairline; Raj had been rough with her during their romp, something she hadn't realised at the time. Her bruised lips alone made her look like a victim of rape, or at least of molestation, not to mention the marks on her arms where he'd crushed some of her thinner bangles and the general disarray of her hair and clothes.

"Raj Bajwa?" Mummy's words roused Preet from her stupor, but she couldn't even begin to think of an excuse. "Did he force you?"

Preet finally found her voice, suddenly feeling defensive. "Even he isn't that low."

Mummy strode up to her, her reflection drawing closer in the mirror behind Preet's, until she yanked her daughter's arm, much like she had done after the staged chase through the forest. "So you _willingly_ rolled around with him like a pig in the mud? And for what? Cheap thrills?"

"Not in the mud."

"What?"

"Not in the mud," Preet repeated firmly. "Inside a shack, not out in the open."

Mummy's eyes widened as she let Preet's arm fall. "Because that makes it so much better? You are getting married to another man in three days!" Preet didn't respond. "How dare you? How dare you stand in front of me and so brazenly defend your actions when you've come back here covered in filth and"—Mummy sniffed—"alcohol?"

"He was drenched in alcohol; I didn't touch it."

"And you're still at it. The question isn't why do you smell of alcohol; it's why did you go to meet him in the first place."

Sighing, Preet took her phone out of where she'd securely tucked it into her lehenga and unlocked it. Despite lowering herself to unimaginable levels tonight in the name if revenge, she'd hoped to maintain at least some of her morals and ethics, but there seemed to be no other way to appease her faithless mother. She begrudgingly swiped to her gallery, pulling up the first of the damning photos she'd clicked straight after Raj had fallen asleep, and showed it to her mother.

"This is why I met him tonight," she said, ripping her eyes away from the image.

In the photo, it looked as if Raj was naked because he'd got busy with the equally bare prostitute shamelessly lying next to him, but she remembered the truth of it all too well. Less than an hour ago, he had touched her, and though the experience had been a sloppy and uncomfortable one, she'd been quite unable to think of anything else since.

After a mere few seconds, Mummy handed her phone back to her, apparently having decided she'd seen enough. She certainly hadn't expected praise upon showing Mummy the photo, but she hadn't exactly expected the harsh glare either.

"So _this_ is what you spread your legs for? This sort of behaviour suits men, Preet, not you. I may have raised you as a boy, but you are a woman. Never forget that."

"Oh, I can assure you; I'll never forget. It's why we're in this whole mess in the first place."

"Don't take that tone with me," Mummy hissed, flexing her hands as if she was itching to slap Preet. "I don't know how your uncle managed to secure this marriage for you—I certainly don't know what sort of private deal you have between the two of you—but one thing's for sure: he would've told the Sangwans that you're a virgin."

The region below Preet's gut tingled, and she looked away. "Maybe. But maybe not. I was married for over a year; who knows what happened during that time?"

"The whole village. It's no secret that he spurned you at the very temple where he married you and never took you home before you had to go into exile. There was no time for you to do anything."

"How do you know he didn't take me behind the temple, before you all arrived? Or in the back of the jeep?"

"Preet!"

She turned back to her mother, but didn't say anything, because however insolent her words had been, she hadn't meant them in jest. Had Raj indeed tried to take her behind the temple or in the back of her jeep, she, so madly in love, would've never denied him.

"Do you still love him?"

The question took her by surprise. "Would I click such defaming pictures if I did?" she asked, voicing her immediate thoughts aloud.

It wasn't a proper answer, and they both knew it, yet Mummy didn't push any further, perhaps because she didn't want the honest answer. Preet was glad for it; she didn't want to know either. Her eyes suddenly fell upon the orange lehenga laid out on her bed, and she figured that Mummy must've brought it in, because it hadn't been there when she'd snuck out.

Rubbing her hands together, she smiled at her mother. "Forget all that. Just tell me: are you excited to be the mother of the bride one last time?"


	8. Chapter 8

Preet's husband is applying sindoor to her and Raj still isn't here

She worries that he lied to her

Just as the pheras are about to begin, he crashes the wedding

Preet signals Jagan to tell the men to let him in

Raj tells Preet that he left his bride at the mandap and came to PH to marry her

She asks about his family and he says he renounced them

The pandit says that the time for the pheras is running out

Raj jumps onto the mandap and attempts to pull Preet away

Preet's husband tells Raj to back off and pushes him off the mandap

Raj looks on helplessly as Preet's marriage is completed

Preet's uncle in law demands to know why another man is begging at his nephew's new wife's feet

Preet finally reveals that she was playing with Raj this whole time; gaining his trust so that he could get revenge on her

Raj asks Preet about their night together but she swiftly denies it

Sukkhi orders his men to throw Raj out and announces that he's making Preet Shah

Preet is shocked and Jagan says that the Panchayat will never allow that to happen

Sukkhi says he will talk to them

* * *

The Pawanias and Sangwans go to the Panchayat

The Panchayat ask Sukkhi why he wants to step down after only six months as Shah; if he does so, Jagan will have to replace him

The clansmen say that they will not be led by Jagan again and that they want Sukkhi to stay because he is a good Shah

Sukkhi admits that he is a good Shah because Preet makes all the decisions for him

The Sarpanch says that women can gently advise from behind the throne, but never sit upon it

Sukkhi points out the double standards

The Panchayat stubbornly stick to their decision of reinstating Jagan but the clansmen say they preferred Manu

Preet's husband says it's Preet they have to choose, not Manu

The Panchayat say that if Preet becomes Shah, her heir will have to be from Jagan's line anyway because her children will be Sangwans and thus ineligible

Preet comes up with a compromise; if her firstborn is a daughter, she'll marry her to a distant Pawania cousin so that her grandchildren will be Pawanias, but if her firstborn is a son, she'll let someone else be her heir i.e. Sukkhi's son or her someone from her grandfather's brother's line

The Panchayat taunt Preet and ask what will happen if her daughter runs off with a Bajwa, since Pawania women seem to love Bajwa men

Preet retorts that her daughters will be Sangwans, not Pawanias, and she'll never allow one of her direct descendants to marry a Bajwa

After this, the clansmen and women say they will accept Preet as their Shah

The Sarpanch is unhappy but says if that's what Sukkhi and the clan want, that is what they shall get 


	9. Chapter 9

Preet arrives at her husband's house for her wedding night

Her husband asks her why she looks so glum

She asks him if he knows about the Pawania/Bajwa family enmity

He tells her that everyone in the village knows

Preet says that she feels guilty for ruining her father's dream of bringing about peace between the two clans just so that she could become Shah

Her husband asks why she thinks so

She says that the Pawanias and Bajwas will never unite because she vowed that she wouldn't let her descendants marry Bajwas

Preet's husband reminds her that there are ways other than marriage to unite two clans

Preet agrees that marriage may be the easiest way but that her father probably didn't intend to bring about peace by marrying one of his daughters to a Bajwa

She thanks her husband for boosting her morale

Just as her husband goes into the ensuite to change, Preet receives a message from Raj which says:

  * He now understands what it feels like to be betrayed by the person one loves and trusts above all
  * He knows he deserved this betrayal and that he won't hold it against it her
  * After he left the mandap, Rohan married his bride to save their family honour and that after his father received the incriminating pictures (the ones that Preet clicked of Raj and the prostitute), he made Rohan his heir
  * He has nothing left to live for except Preet and that if she does not leave her husband and go to him by 10 p.m., he'll kill himself

Preet panics after reading the message and is about to go to Raj when she reminds herself that she is now someone else's wife and is going to be Shah again; she has responsibilities towards her husband, her parents, and her clan

She does the first thing which comes to mind: she forwards the message to Amrit (who now lives in BH) and hopes for the best

Her husband enters the room and tells her to go sleep as she must be tired

Preet starts taking all of her bridal jewellery off, knowing that she's not going to get any sleep at all, but for a different reason to most other brides

* * *

The day after her wedding, Preet returns to her mother's house which is where she will live as Shah

Jagan pulls her aside and gleefully tells her that Raj lost everything and was about to commit suicide but, _unfortunately_, his mother stopped him at the last minute

He also says that Harjeet is looking for a new bride for Raj

Preet goes to her room and almost breaks down in tears

She remembers saving Simran from hanging herself at the last minute and mentally apologises to Amrit for putting her through the same terrifying experience

She thanks God for not letting another person she loves die

Her husband walks into the room, telling her about something funny that Babli did

Preet pulls herself together and decides that it is finally time to move on


	10. Chapter 10

Seventeen years have passed since Preet's wedding

Preet tells Amba that she can't believe that her fifteen year old daugter, Deena, is pregnant

She says that Deena won't tell her who the father of her child is

She says she doesn't know how to tell her husband the news and that he will be devestated

Amba tells Preet that her husband doesn't have to know if she quickly nips the problem in the bud

Preet asks Amba if there's another way because she knows how painful it is to lose a child; her firstborn was a premature stillbirth

Amba says no; marriage to the father of the child is out of the question because as Preet's eldest, Deena is arranged to marry a Pawania

* * *

Preet goes to Deena and asks who the father of her child is

Deena refuses to tell

Preet asks if the father would be willing to marry her

Deena says that his family would never accept her

Preet's world comes crashing down when she realises that there's only one family/clan that would reject the Shah of the Pawanias' heiress

She tells her daughter that she has to get an abortion because her fiance will not accept her if he finds out that she is pregnant with someone else's child

Deena finally gives in when Preet threatens to tell her husband

* * *

After quickly finishing her work for the day, Preet returns to Deena's room to find that she has run away

Preet has no choice but to tell her husband why their daughter ran away

Preet recalls what happened after Simran got pregnant and has a panic attack

Her husband, Jagan and Sukkhi all set out to search for Deena

Preet's husband returns home with Deena's corpse and tearfully tells Preet that their daughter was killed in a shootout between the Pawanias and the Bajwas

* * *

Preet cannot deal with her daughter's death and leaves PH

She wanders through the village until she reaches the forest where the Friend's Corner is located

She goes to a spot near the Friend's Corner which is where she buried her firstborn, Jamena

She goes crazy when she sees her youngest daughter, Tejasvi, hanging out with Raj's son in the Friend's Corner

Preet pulls Tejasvi away from Raj's son and yells at her

She is about to slap Tejasvi when Raj comes and stops her

The sight of Raj makes Preet's blood boil and she pulls Raj's son out of the Friend's Corner before setting the tiny shack on fire

Raj looks on in horror and asks her why she's burning all of their good memories

Preet shouts that Raj was the one who ruined everything first; he ruined their friendship, their love, and now he's trying to ruin her family

Raj tells her that he doesn't want to hurt anyone but Preet blames him for the deaths of her daughters and tells him to stay away from the only one she has left

Raj tells Preet that his son also got killed in the shootout while trying to protect both Deena and Rohan's son (Deena's lover)

He says that they've each lost two children and should finish the enmity before they lose anyone else

Blinded by rage and hatred, Preet accuses Raj of training his son to trick Tejasvi the same way that he tricked her and tells them to stay away from her family

She walks away from Raj, his son, and the burning Friend's Corner, pulling a kicking and screaming Tejasvi along with her

The burden of marrying a Pawania and becoming the next Shah falls on Tejasvi Sangwan's shoulders

The cycle begins again


End file.
